Friday, December 25, 2009

With the magick of Christmas we are finally able to sneak on to Her keyboard – the thing that distracts Her from us so much of the time – and add our own thoughts to this thing She calls a ‘blog’.

She tells us that Jackie in Wales has a dedicated blog all for her cats and that they write on it daily. We wonder why She does not do this for us. But we so enjoy hearing the tales from Wales and all the mystery and magic that swirl around the House of Ginger in that realm.

Today our SoCal House is full of golden sunshine and tissue paper and magic as well. The sunbeams illume them like a stained glass window. People are always giving Her rocks, and today She has a rock with a bee inscribed on it.

And now the sunbeams call and we must answer in our meditative nap. And yield the laptop back to Her, for She has work to do.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Last night I dumped the starter down the drain as the bowl was resembling a pot of cheese. But it did not smell rotten; it smelled organic and somehow good in a weird, fermented old feet kind of way. So I thought: OK, I'll save a tablespoon of it and start again with that.

So I took the spoonful of stuff, which resembled sour cream in texture, and slopped it in a ramikin, and added some water and flour. And stared at it, thinking; I can't do the same thing again. What am I doing wrong? I want to see that hootch after a few days. Hootch. Alcohol as the byproduct of fermentation.... alcohol... alcohol.. OMG! It wants flour and SUGAR!

Gimme some sugar, baby! [said in manner of large voluptuous woman]

So I stirred in just a dusting of the cheap cane sugar I use to make the hummingbird nectar (C&H by the carton - it's great and the hummers prefer it to anything more exotic). Covered the ramikin and set it in a warm corner near the stove.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Today I required healing. So down to my favorite beach I went to find my Selkie Sisters and look for my long lost skin. Today I came close to finding it. Tucked in the rocks. Tucked in the seaweed. Tucked away in the crevasses of the shoreline where the gulls laugh and the squirrels chitter and play. Gran-mere Mellie whistles me along and I go to the water. The water. Where the healing happens.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Ok so my stupid lupus is flaring and all I wanted to do today was to lie face down and drool and take painkillers, but that seemed like a defeatist attitude so I got up and cleaned the cats’ bathroom. They have the en suite bathroom in a spare bedroom and it tends to get hazy from litter. Clay dust gets kicked in the corners and clings to the fabric shower curtain. In his excitement at being alive, the young one sometimes misses and hits the puppy pads under the trays. In other words, it’s a barn if I don’t tend it every once and a while.

So I creaked and groaned as I leaned down to muck out litter boxes and scrub the floor in spite of my inflamed extremities. I also got to thinking about the scientific method. Why cat litter brought this about is a mystery, but there you have it. And I wondered when did we, as a society of humans, decide that the scientific method was the be-all end-all of analysis? When did it become the mock-able thing to do to listen to your intuition, your gut, that little voice in your head that warns in a very visceral way?

Everybody always says to listen to your gut, but then when you do, you often get chided. Try not taking a plane because you have a gut feeling. Everyone thinks you’re a nutter, especially when the plane later arrives without a hitch. Well, true, the rest of the passengers got there, but maybe you would have tripped in the jetway and broken your leg or something. It’s not always an air disaster that you get warned about.

I think intuitive knowledge got shoved aside when so-called modern medicine came into being, and medieval physicians did away with their main competition, the local wise woman, by burning them as witches. Away with herbalism and energy healing. In with medicine and the industry it became. Away with anyone who had intuitive abilities. In with those who embraced legalism and evidentiary proof.

It became unsafe and dangerous to profess any intuitive ability or inherent knowledge of healing or counsel. It could literally get you killed.

It still can in certain cultures.

There needs to be a balance. Sure, we can make good use of the scientific method of empirical evidence and logic when we seek certain information. But as a culture we’ve almost totally lost sight of intuitive knowledge. We’ve lost sight of ‘just knowing’. I think when we access both methods, and blend them all up, we really get information.

And I think that as we near 2012, the tipping point in our civilization’s evolution, we are starting to open up to using intuitive information once more. Thank God.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

The weather has gone all cold here in the past few days. It doesn’t go much above fifty degrees and at night there is a risk of frost. A storm is moving in. It feels wonderful. I’ve been tucked in reading, baking, and doing home office work. Yum. Sometimes you’ve just got to go quiet. And I’ve enjoyed that this weekend.

About Me

Me? Many aspects: Writer, Attorney, Registered Nurse, Behavioral Scientist, Clairvoyant. I'm interested in bringing magic practice back into people's lives: the conscious use of energy to grow, live, and love. We aren't here to be anesthetized consumers of goods. We're here to learn about love and grow the planet.